A Perfect Guilt
by Wesz
Summary: Liam feels guilty for attacking Scott and reviews how their relationship has changed ever since. Or the one where terrible things have a great outcome, because Scott McCall is the most compassionate alpha ever.


**Author's Note:** This work is inspired by a post on Tumblr, "Person A is in bed reading a book. Person B enters and climbs into bed with them. Without looking up person A raises their arm so that person B can crawl under and snuggle up with them. Person B falls asleep."

This is the first time I'm trying to put in memories in a story. I'm not a fan of changing the font when the main character remembers something, so I've tried to work around that by changing the tense here and there. Let me know if it works, lovelies.

For now, sit down, relax and...

Enjoy!

* * *

Liam's face drew closer to the mirror, examining himself one more time. His eyes squinted and widened a couple of times. It had been a solid year, but yet he didn't look like he had aged. Nope, the same baby face with round and soft contours – okay, he has to give kudos to his jawline, because that's having some solid shit going on – was still looking back at him.

He scrunched his nose, baring his upper teeth. The tip of his tongue glided along the edges safely, for his human teeth were far less sharp than his wolf's fangs. Liam sighed, ruffling his hair again, which was still slightly damp from the shower he had just taken. Leftover water drops spilled from the edges of his strands onto his reflection. He rolled his eyes at himself, putting up his arm and brushing them off with his wrist.

His eyes trailed towards his hands; hands that still hadn't really matured either, yet the imaginable blood that was on them felt like it had been there for a hundred years. His left hand joined his right, in front of his chest, and Liam looked at them with a deep frown on his face. His hands. The beating of his heart sped up slightly as a rush of heat spread over him, like he was stepping into a sauna. His hands, which would sometimes turn into claws. Vicious claws with sharp nails and a yearning, an itching, anger in them that would burn right through his skin.

The claws that had hurt his alpha.

Apologizing to Scott had proved to be the hardest thing Liam ever had to do. It was horrid; awful. Especially because Liam couldn't recall a situation where Scott had hurt him. Even back then, during the super moon in Beacon High's library, when Liam had attacked him, Scott had held back. Obviously, in that moment of blurriness Liam hadn't noticed; he had been too busy feeling powerful and undefeatable. Only when Mason had pulled a string in his humanity, Liam had seen the damage he had done. And, still, even then, when Scott was lying there on the floor, covered in blood and cuts, he had decided to run off and be with Hayden.

Scott kept insisting that he didn't blame Liam for that.

"First loves are always the most intense," he had continued to say with the same empty look in his eyes, as if he was remembering, "There's nothing more important than your first love."

Liam fumbled with his hands. "I still should've stayed," he maintained.

Scott crossed eyes with him and held them into place, slowly shaking his head. "You shouldn't have. She died."

"Well, so…" Liam swallowed. "…So did you."

"But I wasn't your first love."

Liam had nodded, loosening himself from the intense hold Scott's eyes had on him. They were on Scott's bed. Back then, Liam had felt like a first love mattered at least as much as a first alpha, and he still thought that. Yet, he had never said those words to Scott, knowing fairly well it wasn't a discussion he was going to win. How could he? Scott had suffered loss when Allison passed away, but he had never really had an alpha when he had been a beta. Or at least not had one like Liam now had in Scott. So how could Liam ever win that argument? How could he ever prove to Scott that he, as a beta, loves him just as much as he had loved Hayden, when Scott hadn't experienced that kind of affection himself?

"Are you alright, buddy?" Scott had asked.

Liam nodded.

It remained quiet afterwards. A comfortable silence, where Liam slipped into his own thoughts and decided that this was just one of those things he wasn't going to get through to Scott. Like how Liam was never going to understand how Scott could be so forgiving.

As said before, apologizing to Scott proved to be unbearable. Liam had been too embarrassed, too ashamed, to go up to him himself. No, instead he had sent his best friend, Mason, with a crumpled piece of paper with his smudged handwriting on it, to do it for him.

The boulder – one Liam had felt a lot during his short life – sunk deeper into his stomach at the memory. His feet felt cold on the tiles of the bathroom. He inhaled deeply, as if the oxygen in his lungs could dissolve the heavy stone. A mixture of steam and cedar wood smelling shampoo filled his nose, throwing his mind back to the locker rooms.

"I can't do it," he had groaned, watching Scott sneakily from behind his locker. "He hates me, I'm sure of it. How can he not? I wanted to kill him!"

"Just take deep breaths," Mason said, pulling a shirt over his head.

"No. No, it doesn't help," Liam refused, turning back around to his friend. He shot a pleading look. "Mason, please?"

His best friend sighed, his head falling forward. "Okay. Fine. But what do you want me to say?"

Liam bit his lip, looking around the room hastily until his gaze fell onto his bag. He ducked down, zipping it open and pulling out a notepad. After some searching he also found a scattered pen and he quickly ripped off a piece of paper from the pad. His fingers twitched as he tightened his grip around the writing instrument; the skin around his nails turning white. With a trembling hand he wrote something down.

"Here," he said, handing the note to Mason.

Mason looked at it briefly, inhaling a deep breath.

"Please?" Liam repeated, that same helpless look on his face.

Mason eyed him for a beat longer until he finally caved. "Fine."

He shuffled up to Scott, Liam hiding behind a corner of one of the shower cubicles in the meantime. He watched Mason tap Scott's shoulder, who had his back turned to him.

When he twisted his neck and faced him, Mason read, "Scott. I am sorry I tried to kill you. I'm sorry I threw you to the floor and clawed you badly."

Scott titled his head in slight confusion, but when his eyes shifted towards the paper, he seemed to get what was going on.

"I am sorry that I wrestled you and bit you," Mason continued, "I'm sorry I made you a bloody mess."

Scott pursed his lips, but the look in his eyes was one of sympathy – Liam had seen that one far too often not to recognize it, even from a distance.

"I'm sorry I tried to become the alpha. I don't want to be the alpha. You're my alpha."

As the end of the note neared, Liam started chewing on the inside of his cheek. His foot nervously tapped the wet floor beneath him.

"Please forgive me," Mason finalized. He looked up with a blunt look on his face, one Liam couldn't see.

Scott stared at him, but didn't say a word. The younger guy twisted his hands at the wrist and gave a little shrug, not really knowing what else to say.

Scott's eyes shifted towards the shower cubicles and Liam swiftly hid behind the wall. With his heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline that rushed through his veins, his senses became heightened. An annoying impulse only untrained werewolves experienced. He almost jumped when he heard Scott's voice in his head.

"I forgive you."

Liam snapped out of the memory. He rubbed a hand over his face, pulling down the skin under his eyes, making him look like a zombie. He shook his head rapidly, as if the memories could fall out from his ears, away from his mind. But when he looked up and saw more droplets on the mirror again, he couldn't help but snicker at himself. With a faint brush of his arm they disappeared and Liam put on his boxers, which he had discarded onto the floor earlier. He then took a pair of Scott's sweatpants from the edge of the bathtub. He stuck his legs in, covering them and his upper body got hugged by a sleeveless shirt before he exited the bathroom.

Scott was on his bed, reading. He didn't even look up when Liam emerged from his ensuite. He was wearing a comfortable sweater, one that looked very inviting. At least Liam thought so.

The boy rubbed the damp towel through his hair one more time. A grin spread around his lips when he read the title of Scott's book. 'The Veterinary Medical Terminology Guide', it said. A quiet sense of pride overcame Liam like a sudden summer breeze. His alpha was finally in college, studying the thing he loves. It was a whole lot – Liam had snuck a peek into one of Scott's books a couple of weeks ago and, given the fact they were only from his first semester, Liam thought it was going to be a hard study. Chances were he was probably going to find Scott in that focused position a lot more often. Most likely every Friday and Saturday, because those were the days Liam stayed over.

He had never really gotten rid of his paranoia after his first fight with the Berserkers. The memory had taunted him continuously at night and even though they had gotten less over time, almost killing Scott had made them come back. Not the Berserker dreams, but the nightmares. Where Liam had first been dreaming about getting his ass kicked by brainwashed men covered in skulls, he was now repeatedly reliving the day he had tried to kill Scott.

He wasn't sure why his mind kept doing that to him. Maybe his guilt had never really gone away. Or maybe, subconsciously, he was just a terrible pessimist.  
The first time he had noticed the recurring nightmares was when he was spending the night at Scott's – ironically enough – right after the conversation where Scott had tried once again to take Liam's guilt away by telling him he understood why he had went to Hayden.

The nightmare had been vivid; not really like a nightmare. Usually in his dreams there were fleeting images and blurry scene changes, but that time there hadn't been. Liam was literally reliving the entire fight; he could clearly tell from his fully transformed body when he had woken up.

Scott had been there beside him, taking Liam's hand – or claw – in his. He had brushed his thumb across the clenched knuckles and it had felt strange. It was a bittersweet gesture. It calmed Liam down, sure, but it was also where Scott's blood had been during that night. Scott had only realized when he had followed Liam's watery stare towards their hands, quickly letting go.

"It's okay," he had said, in that way only Scott could say it; full of reassurance and compassion. With his voice raspy from sleep and thick from tenderness, like fluffy clouds passing the night's sky. "It's okay."

Liam wiped his eyes with the back of his – now human – hands. He sniffed loudly, bending his legs at the knee to get a little more comfortable in his upright position.

Scott had rubbed his back with slow, firm strokes. The strength of his palm on Liam's spine grounded the boy. It had been a feeling he could focus on and hold onto. Soothing.

"I thought the nightmares had stopped," Scott offered in a soft whisper.

Liam cleared his throat. "They had."

Scott nodded. The hand on Liam's back trailed up and around his neck. Scott tugged him gently towards his side, lying back down on the bed. The mattress unfolded from their now spread out weight, taking them in.

Liam had let Scott led him, nestling his head in the crook of his shoulder. Scott's forearm snuck around Liam's side, splaying out his fingers across his stomach. He pulled him a little closer and Liam shuffled against him, drawing a leg over Scott's thigh. He sniffed again.

"Why do you think they've come back?" Scott had asked softly.

Liam raised his shoulders lightly. "Not sure…" he answered. "Maybe because I still feel guilty?"

"Do you?"

Another shrug. "I don't know…"

Scott rubbed his upper arm comfortingly. "Okay," he replied, "don't worry about it, yeah?"

Liam had nodded, exhaling a deep breath before sleep started pulling on his mind again. He drifted off, that time peacefully.

They had learned from Liam's first range of nightmares that physical contact helped him sleep. It was almost as if Liam's subconscious needed something to hold onto. Or maybe it was the scared werewolf inside of him latching on to the dominant companionship and safety of its alpha.

But now, a full year later, the nightmares still hadn't fully gone away. They had started to fade a little, but Liam wasn't sure if that was because of his aging memories or from his slowly fleeting guilt. He had talked to Scott multiple times about it, like they had when he had had his first nightmare. They had tried to figure out if his anger from that night had come from Theo's brainwashing or from the super moon. Maybe Liam's IED had still played a part in it as well or maybe Scott was right and Liam had been a victim of his first love. Any excuse to put Liam's guilt to rest.

Unfortunately, their efforts had been in vain. Even now they still hadn't figured it out. Secretly, though, Liam had grown okay with that. He was fine, because, even now Scott had started college, Liam was still his beta. They were still pack, even though Scott was miles away five days a week. Liam was okay, because now it had been a given he would spend two out of those seven nights at his alpha's. He was okay because he could find security in that.

Liam hung his towel over the chair at Scott's desk. The red alarm clock showed it was just past ten o'clock, but nonetheless, Liam went over to the end of his alpha's bed. He climbed onto it, hands and knees first, shoulder smoothly scraping the wall. He clawed across the sheets.

Scott lifted his hips, not looking up from his reading, as Liam yanked the covers out from under him. He crawled under the softness, right beneath the spot where Scott had lied, which was therefore radiating with a securing warmth.

He got comfortable and Scott raised his arm. The boy smiled, ducking under it and laying his head onto Scott's chest. A barely audible moan slipped from his throat as he nestled into him. Scott's arm fell around Liam's back and the boy looked up. He chuckled softly at Scott's reading face – which was way too serious and made his jaw look even more crooked. He resisted to urge to peck a kiss onto his chin; instead settled back in. Sleep overtook him soon afterwards, guilt still tugging on the edges of his mind, taunting him.

But as long as Liam would be pressed against Scott's body, he was going to be okay. Nightmares and guilt would haunt him for a while long, but that didn't matter. It didn't matter, because he knew Scott was always going to be there to reassure him. Scott was always going to do be there to tell him it didn't matter. Scott was always going to come up with a million excuse for Liam's guilty. Because Scott was his alpha. His forgiving alpha. The alpha Liam sometimes didn't understand.

But he was okay.


End file.
